


To Boldly Go... On Vacation

by Eve_Louise (Stregatrek)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: First Kiss, I wrote this in class, M/M, but sometimes they're better, everything always goes wrong, vacations are never as good as you think they'll be, why does everything go wrong?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:14:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7182014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stregatrek/pseuds/Eve_Louise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak goes on vacation. Bashir follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Boldly Go... On Vacation

Garak stretched on the wide, flat rock he had found, sunning himself luxuriously. It had been a long time since he’d left the station, but an Alarphian who’d visited his shop had recommended this planet for cold-blooded beings like themselves. Allowing himself to rest was even more rare than leaving the station, but Garak never lied (to himself)- he was enjoying the sun. Closing his eyes against the glare of the sun shining on a surface devoid of sentient life but for himself, Garak rolled onto his back and flexed, arching his spine before settling down.  
He was beginning to drift, lulled by being warm for once, when a far-too-familiar-for-the-circumstances voice made him sit bolt upright, hastening to cover his chest with the shirt he’d discarded. “Garak!”  
“Doctor Bashir! What are you doing here?”  
“I could ask you the same,” Julian was already sweating in the heat, Starfleet top draped over one shoulder as he stood in his undershirt with his hands braced on his hips, doing his best to look stern.  
“Isn’t a poor hardworking tailor even allowed a vacation these days?” Garak toed the line between flippant and plaintive, working hard to keep his face benignly neutral.  
“Well, it’s just-” Julian cut himself off, obviously trying to phrase his explanation in a way that wouldn’t tip off the ex-spy that station personnel kept tabs on his whereabouts. “You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving, or where you were going, and we thought…”  
Garak smiled very slightly at Julian’s mannerisms. At some point, they had become familiar, comforting even. “How touching,” his voice held all of the acidity he could muster but only a tiny portion of the warmth he was feeling. Still, the doctor didn’t seem to notice, standing his ground just as gamely as if Garak had spread his arms wide and offered a rambling explanation. “But I still don’t understand why _you’re _here, my dear doctor.”__  
Bashir flushed a red that had nothing to do with the heat. “Well, actually, I- I told Captain Sisko that we’d intended to come here together. That I had agreed to use some of my time off and meet you here. He was- er- much reassured by the fact that you’d have… some company.” He shifted his weight awkwardly, trying for a placating smile and winding up somewhere in the area of a knight approaching a dragon.  
“How touching.”  
“Garak,”  
“No, really, doctor. I’m very grateful to you for sparing me from the displeasure of the good Captain, and Major Kira’s too, no doubt. I wonder if you might do me another favor?”  
Julian smiled, relief evident. Garak was tempted to laugh. “Of course,” he shrugged. “What is it?”  
“Turn around so I can put my tunic back on in peace. You rather surprised me just now, congratulations.”  
“Garak, I’m a doctor. I’m your doctor in fact; I’ve seen you before.”  
The Cardassian lifted his brow. “All the same,”  
Bashir held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, turning away with only a slight eye-roll. Garak could picture his smirk, and it made him smile to himself as he tugged his shirt down over his head and quickly put his hair back in place. “Thank you, doctor,”  
“You know, I can really see why this place appeals to you,” Bashir said, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.  
“It does make a nice change, doesn’t it,” Garak agreed, watching Julian curiously. “Just how long did you tell Captain Sisko we’d be?” He stood, the sunning abandoned for the moment.  
“I didn’t specify. I’ve got two weeks of leave, so no longer than that.”  
“Two weeks?” Garak’s voice lilted. “That’s very generous indeed. What do you propose we do, now that you’re here?”  
For a moment, there was something in Julian’s face suggesting he wanted to say something other than what actually came out of his mouth. “Well, I brought books, some research, even one or two games. I ought to be able to occupy myself well enough while you… enjoy the heat.”  
“ _Very _thoughtful of you, doctor, but seeing as you’ve spared me a good deal of suspicion and trouble with the Captain, it seems only fair that I extend my hospitality.” He smiled at Julian, something that continued to come far more easily than he ever would have expected.__  
*  
That first night, Julian slept in the runabout he’d piloted down, while Garak slept in the blessed humid heat outside, half ready to spar with Julian over it the next morning, but no inquiry came, merely a bright smile when the doctor emerged tousle-haired shortly after sunrise. “Morning, Garak. Would you like a raktajino?”  
“Yes, please, doctor,”  
“Call me Julian, Garak, we’re camping!” He grinned even more brightly as he handed Garak the replicated raktajino. “I love camping, you know, always have.” Smile softening, he looked around at the sparse trees, through which the glint of a blue lake was visible. “Leeta and I went once on Bajor-”  
Garak forced a smile that was probably too bitter. “I doubt it got to 54*C there in the afternoons.”  
“That hot? I’ll stay in the runabout when that happens,” Julian laughed. “What will you do?”  
“I admit I didn’t come as well-prepared as you have; I booked passage on a freighter, brought a PADD, and a phaser for hunting, and a few changes of clothes. Here you see it,” Garak spread his arms, indicating the bag he’d used as a pillow the night before.  
“How on earth did you intend to get back?” Julian asked, wrinkling his nose in that adorably inquisitive way he had.  
Garak just smiled slyly.  
“Oh, you-” Julian laughed again, leaning against the shuttlecraft, his civilian tunic adding to the picture of relaxation he made. “You knew I’d come after you! Garak, you are something else.”  
The tailor shrugged, hints of a smug smile playing around his mouth. “Well, I knew Captain Sisko would send _someone _; you seemed like the likely candidate.”__  
“And why’s that?”  
“You know me,” Elim Garak shrugged, casually uttering a phrase that hadn’t been this meaningful for him for quite some time.  
“Sometimes I like to think so,” Julian agreed with an odd look on his face.  
Garak swallowed uncomfortably and changed the subject. “I assume you contacted the station last night to inform them you found me?”  
Bashir cleared his throat. “Um. Yes. They’ll expect us back in no more than two weeks.” Something in his face made it clear that there was more to that story, but he didn’t continue. Garak wondered what exactly the doctor had said to explain their vacation on this lonely, hot planet.  
“Well, then,” Garak was about to say something with a rather delightful double meaning, but Julian chose that moment to steamroller on as though he hadn’t stopped at all.  
“Yes, Captain Sisko was quite relieved that I’d found you; when Odo tracked down which ship you’d left on there was some concern that you might be headed for- well, less amicable territory.” Julian sighed and straightened up. “Look, Garak, just tell me- were you planning to meet anyone else here?” The expression on Bashir’s face would have made a fascinating study if Garak had had the time, with his eyes full of hope and his forehead creased in worry, mouth set determinedly.  
It occurred to Garak to be as flippant as usual, to smile and say ‘it never even crossed my mind,’ or perhaps even ‘my dear doctor why would I interrupt a trip like this with unwanted company!’, but he suspected that that would not ease Julian’s fears. So he simply looked at Julian and answered, “No, I was not.”  
Immediately, Julian relaxed, his gaze searching Garak’s face as a smile crept back onto his own youthful face. Garak couldn’t help but soften his own expression in response, something honest breaking through. “Oh, good,” Bashir was saying, “I got worried on the way here- some rendez-vous or other. But no matter. If you say you’re just here to enjoy the heat, then that’s good enough for me.”  
Again, he bit down on his first response- not JUST the heat, doctor- and only asked, “it is?”  
“Should it not be?”  
“Well, it’s very- trusting.”  
Julian shrugged. “I trust you.”  
Garak looked at him, unsure exactly what he was feeling. The boy was an utter fool, but there was something powerful in that degree of absolution- he’d asked for it, once, and it appeared that Julian had not forgotten. Even still, after all he’d done… “Who knows, doctor, I could be a Changeling. Or perhaps I lured you here to sabotage the runabout and stage an accident for you.” Honesty was never the best policy, not even with Julian. Perhaps especially not with Julian, not yet.  
Bashir shook his head fondly. “You’d have done it before all this chatting, and as for being a Changeling… you’d melt in this heat.”  
“Really, doctor, that’s most unscientific reasoning.” Garak smirked.  
“Haven’t I told you? I’m on vacation.”  
“And what would you like to do with your vacation, doctor?” The Cardassian challenged, sidling closer.  
There it was again, the look that seemed as though Julian wanted to say something other than what he actually did. “Well, seeing as it’s getting hot already, I was thinking I might give that lake a quick scan and see if it’s safe for swimming. Care to join me?”  
Garak’s mouth went dry. “Perhaps, if you deem it safe for both our species,”  
“Well, I’ll get to it then,” Bashir reached into the runabout and retrieved his tricorder. “Be right back,” He pointed at Garak, teasing smile on his face, “don’t disappear again,”  
“I’ll stay right here,” Garak assured him, perching on a large rock and folding his hands in his lap, feeling as though he should kick his feet back and forth to add to the picture of innocence.  
As soon as Bashir disappeared through the trees, Garak got up and slipped into the runabout. He had just enough time to be sure… Though his plan had worked this far, an agent of the Obsidian Order was never anything less than thorough. Evidently that held even into retirement.  
When Bashir returned, Garak was seated on his rock again, and quirked one of his eyeridges inquisitorially. “Safe?”  
“Completely. Some life signs, but nothing toxic. Come on, let’s replicate a couple of suits. I’m going to be spending a lot of time hiding from this heat in there, I can tell.”  
Garak hesitated a beat before nodding. “Alright. You go ahead, I’ll get mine while you change.”  
Bashir nodded, giving the replicator specific instructions and taking the result with him back to the alcove. Garak considered his options for a moment. Julian called, “Changing back here is really rather cramped!” And Garak jumped, making his choice. He replicated a pair of swim shorts and a shirt, a human ensemble he found quaint and far more approachable than what Cardassians wore in the water.  
“Give me just a moment, doctor,” he pulled on the trunks and waited until he heard Julian’s footsteps to begin donning the shirt. A harmless experiment.  
“Garak, I told you, call me Julian-” he cut off as he entered, and Garak gave a contrived little jump, yanking the shirt down. Clearing his throat as his eyes traveled over Garak’s form, Julian asked, “ready?”  
“Quite. After you,” Garak was getting quite a view, as Bashir had not opted for the shirt. Queen to queen’s level three. “You’d be a dab hand at Cardassian strategy games, Julian,” he said as they began picking their way toward the water.  
“How so?” Julian turned his head to ask, and Garak enjoyed his profile in the reflected light from the lake’s surface.  
“Oh, just a passing thought. Perhaps we ought to replicate one for this evening.” His delivery was smooth, his voice just slightly lower than usual, and he wondered if Julian would pick up the hint.  
“I would love to learn,” Bashir smiled over his shoulder again, wading into the lake. “Ah, that’s much better! I can’t believe how hot it gets here!” Garak looked slightly dubiously at the water as his friend telegraphed relief in every line of his body, but Julian leapt the rest of the way in, splashing Garak with the incautious entrance. He shivered involuntarily as Julian turned back to look at him. “Come on in, Garak!”  
“If you insist,” The Cardassian sighed. “I’m really not the strongest swimmer.” Actually, he could swim fine- but waterboarding was a cross-species torture tactic, as he was suddenly remembering quite vividly. He waded in up to his chest, and suddenly it was even more unpleasantly like some very powerful memories of experiences he’d had with water during his training with the Order. He focused on Julian’s face and reminded himself that this was here and now, and he could breathe. The water wasn’t uncomfortable, not too cold, and no one was going to force his head under or lower his body temperature dangerously.  
“Are you alright, Garak?”  
_Other than the crumbling of my plans due to personal weakness, yes. _Forcing a smile, Garak took a deep breath. Julian looked concerned, which was touching of course but not exactly the goal of this little exercise. To diffuse the moment, Garak splashed him.__  
Julian sputtered for a moment, then began to laugh. “Garak, you are always a surprise.”  
“Mm, as are you, my dear.” He managed to push off from the muddy bottom and swim a few feet. Julian watched him a little suspiciously, and Garak cursed his momentary weakness. “And if I’m going to be made to call you Julian, you really ought to call me Elim. It’s only fair after all.”  
“I suppose fair’s fair,” Julian smiled.  
“I’ve never been swimming _with _anyone before; what does one do?”__  
“Er- just paddle around, I suppose. Normally I have a goal when I’m swimming, somewhere I want to get to or something. Once, the Chief and I tried to swim the English Channel in the holodeck.”  
Garak treaded water a few feet from Julian, fighting down the wave of jealousy sitting uncomfortably beside the tension in his stomach. “The English Channel?”  
“It’s a famous body of water on Earth, people used to use it as a distance metric- swimming or flying across was considered quite a feat, once.”  
“I see. I doubt I’d be fit to swim the channel; I’d much prefer to be on shore on a warm rock.” The water was insidious against his skin, and he was more honest about it than he might usually be, but he kept a smile on his face.  
“There are no warm rocks in England,” Julian shook his head with an answering grin. “But here, if you’d prefer,” he gestured toward the shore. “I’d hate to make you cold,”  
“Thank you, doctor, you’re very considerate.” Cursing himself and the panic that lapped at his chest like the water triggering it, Garak swam back to shore and found a large, flat rock at the water’s edge from which he could see Julian splashing around happily.  
Garak laid on his stomach, hands folded under his chin, thinking. Other than his slight hang up with swimming, the plan was working perfectly. Julian had come, his personal logs showed that he thought about Garak as suspected- the same way the Cardassian thought about him- too much and with such fondness that it doubtlessly had become his greatest weakness. Garak stretched in the sunlight and sent a grimace and a rude gesture the way of Tain’s ghost, wherever it was.  
So now, all he needed to do was decide whether he’d like to see his plan to completion. It would be simple, really, to lean over and kiss Julian Bashir, press their hands together- Garak shifted on the rock, flexing his fingers and allowing his nictitating membranes to close, still watching Bashir in the water. He wanted to do it, let it happen, but what would follow… he couldn’t deny that he wanted anything Bashir was willing to give, a one night stand or a lifelong partnership. And that, of course, was where it got dangerous. Because Garak didn’t do partnerships or teamwork, or anything that required him to depend even briefly on another person. It would be a hard habit to break, and there was no guarantee that his efforts would be reciprocated, or that there wouldn’t be sufficient external circumstances- being the only Cardassian on the station, being a member of a race with which Starfleet was more or less at war, just being Garak- for Bashir to get tired of it all and leave him anyway. Besides that fear, there was a secret shame that sounded incredibly like Enabran Tain whispering to eliminate Bashir as a possible temptation.  
Just then, Julian gave an aborted shout and began thrashing in the water. On his feet without thinking about it, Garak shouted, “Julian!” He saw the doctor twist, and a tentacle whipped through the air. Garak scooped up a sharp-looking rock and sprinted back into the water, heart in his throat. He struck out as hard as he could toward Julian, and took a deep breath, reaching through the clear water for the creature that had tangled itself around Julian’s limbs. Garak attacked it viciously as it dragged Julian under the surface, hacking and biting at the tentacles and what looked like the head. Dark greenish blood filled the water around them, and Garak felt Julian go limp just before the creature did.  
He seized the doctor around the waist and struggled back to shallower water, gasping for air and fighting the urge to vomit. Pulling Julian to shore was not easy, but the younger man was breathing, and that gave Garak hope. “Julian,” he rasped, dragging them both out of the water. “Julian,” He shook the doctor’s shoulders with unsteady hands. “Please.”  
“’M all right,” Julian coughed, eyes over-bright when they opened. “’M fine.”  
“Oh,” Garak’s joints quit on him, and he slumped across Julian’s chest. “I am never going in the water again.” He felt himself shuddering, his breath coming too fast, and all of a sudden like a spring releasing he no longer had any choice but to go forward. He pushed himself up, took Bashir’s face in shaking hands, and pressed his mouth to Julian’s.  
Hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Garak felt as though the heat of the planet was welding them together, edges of them both becoming molten, fusing, so that even if they wanted to separate they never could.  
Gasping, Garak pressed his forehead into the juncture of Bashir’s neck and shoulder, trying to banish the anxiety driving his heart rate up and making his limbs shake.  
“Garak,” Julian’s voice was husky. “Are you alright?”  
“It’s just- like the claustrophobia,” He explained, shame burning his cheeks. Julian shifted slightly, and Garak held on. “Please- don’t.” He heard himself, heard his honesty, and let go. “I’m sorry, doctor, this is really quite humiliating- but I’ll be alright momentarily.” He forced his voice steady, but couldn’t quite look at Julian as he began to move away from the doctor. “Are you alright? That creature was doing a commendable straightjacket impersonation.”  
Julian grabbed his shoulder again, and despite himself, Garak looked up. He didn’t see much before Julian pulled their bodies back into contact, and with the adrenaline and the anxiety Garak couldn’t do anything but what he wanted most basically- which was to wrap his arms around Julian and stay still as the doctor stroked a hand down his back, touching the scales and ridges around his spine with gentle reverence. “Oh, Garak. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Julian’s hands smoothed down his back again. “I’m alright, and so are you. Thank you for saving my life- and I’m so sorry for suggesting the swim, I had no idea it would go so badly.” He swore quietly under his breath, huffing out a single short burst of self-depreciating laughter. “And to think… just because I wanted…”  
Recovering himself as he listened to Julian’s voice and felt the heat seeping back into his bones, the openness of the planet around them, Garak had his breathing under control. “What did you want, Julian?” He asked, bringing one of his hands up to trace the pattern of a light cluster of freckles he could see with his chin on the doctor’s shoulder. “All you have to do is say, you know,”  
“Maybe later,” Julian kissed him again, softly, and the stress became a little more bearable. “Right now, I think we both need to use the medikit.”  
“An excellent idea for yourself, doctor, but in my case I believe only my pride is injured,” Garak punctuated his statement with the ghost of a bite at Julian’s neck, and the doctor laughed.  
“Oh, Garak. Never change.”  
“I must say, I’m glad you like me as I am. I think I’ve had quite enough of disguises.”  
“Does that mean you’re going to tell me you’re not really a tailor?”  
“Don’t be absurd, my dear,” Garak stood and offered a hand to Julian. He winced slightly when he saw the bruises already blooming on Bashir’s light brown skin where the creature had grabbed him. “Are you alright?”  
“Thanks to you,” Julian smiled, and Garak marveled at how very quickly things could change- and how much they were still the same. _There went the strategy, _Garak mused to himself.__


End file.
